


Come (Get High) With Freddy

by FantasyIntoReality



Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street - All Media Types
Genre: Drugs, F/M, Freddy Krueger - Freeform, Funny, Getting high, I Blame Tumblr, I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, Scary, Scary Movies, Sexual Tension, Short One Shot, Smoking, Sorry Not Sorry, Suspense, Tension, Thrilling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:54:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24768070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasyIntoReality/pseuds/FantasyIntoReality
Summary: So a stupid short story about Freddy Krueger, but if he had his finger-knives replaced with blunts. It is decent and I'm actaully proud of this work. So read it if you want, eh.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Come (Get High) With Freddy

Emma lit the bowl and took the biggest hit her lungs could physically take before coughing them up. Tonight was solemn, with the moon being full and bright, pregnant with mystery and beauty. She couldn't keep her eyes off of it, that is until the lawn chair she was lounging in threatened to drop her. 

Of course she had to smoke outside. Her mom had kicked her out into the backyard because she had a guy over, and wanted privacy. Emma understood, and she didn't want to hear that shit anyway. So she dragged her three foot tall, bright pink bong out to the backyard by the pool and got fucking high off her ass. Of course, she brought water and some snacks for the munchies. With a blanket to keep her company, she just relaxed into the chair and watched the water in the pool ripple. 

The lights from inside the pool shimmered in the water so naturally, it was hypnotizing to watch. Her thoughts slowly became fuzzy, and her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Her fingers buzzed with relaxation and she could feel humidity in the air becoming thicker with oncoming rain. 

After gazing at the water with the Rolling Stones singing in the background, a silver glint in the pool caught her attention. Squinting, she rubbed her cherry red eyes and tried to process what she was, in fact, witnessing. Her mothers pink lounging floaty was bobbing carelessly with what appeared to be the silhouette of a man lying within it. This made no sense, seeing as the man her mother had brought home was currently rearranging her guts on the living room couch. (Ew).

"Sup, bitch." The silhouette greeted. The light of a cherry glowed brightly as he inhaled what smelled like a fucking blunt. 

"Uh, who are you?" Emma rasped. She took a swig of water, not taking her attention off the man. 

The floaty drifted into the porch light, and Emma could see the raggedy old green and red sweater that adorned him. His skin looked horribly burnt, pink and fleshy and irritated, as if he had been lit on fire. It was very strange, yes, but Emma overlooked it. Why? take a guess. 

He wore a torn brown fedora atop his charred bald head, and had a strange looking glove on his right hand. Looking closer, she realized with a jolt that his glove was fixed with four crusty looking knives. Like, who the hell puts knives on their gloves? 

She considered that the only logical explanation for this situation was that this man had simply broken into her mothers backyard to chill in the pool. Unfortunately, this is not the first time this has happened. 

As if he read her thoughts, the (crusty, old) man flashed his blades and grinned. She, being too high to care, smiled, and watched as his blades glinted in the light, and somehow transformed into fucking blunts. He spat the joint in his mouth into the water and watched it sizzle for a second before turning to his glove and letting out a hot, bright breath of fire, lighting all four blunts simultaneously. 

Emma shrieked with laughter and watched in awe as he put his thumb in his mouth and inhaled deeply, the cherries on the blunts flare before he let out the biggest cloud she had ever seen. And- get this- the fucker didn't cough ONCE.

"Awe, yeah. That's the shit, bitch." He leaned back in the lounger, his eyes never leaving hers as he smirked and relaxed, crossing his legs.

"Dude," Emma sat up, placing her bong beside the snacks. "Lemme hit that." 

Of course, common sense had been thrown to the wind, but she didn't care. This guy, whoever he was, was lit as fuck and she was not about to let that opportunity fly out the window. 

She crouched by the poolside and just barely leaned over the water to get a closer look. The mans floaty, seemingly untouched, drifted to the edge and he beckoned to her with his naked hand. She leaned farther towards him, mouth agape as he took another hit. His chest expanded and he blew the cloud into her face. She closed her eyes, inhaling the earthy smoke, and almost slipped into the water.

"You wanna taste?" The man purred, his eyes daring her to say yes. He tauntingly expanded his gloved hand to her, and retracted from her greedy grasp. 

She pouted and muttered, "That's not funny-" 

"Freddy," he said.

She watched in shock as Freddy took a hit from his thumb again, but squealed when he grabbed the back of her head and kissed her.

But within the second she realized it wasn't a normal kiss, and openly inhaled his pushed breath. 

Instantly, she was seeing stars. Colors bursts in her mind's eye and she felt as if she was floating. Her lungs expanded with warm vapor. She pulled back, eyebrows risen and eyes squinted, coughing her fucking lungs out. 

Freddy laughed scornfully before releasing her. Emma fell back onto the grass, hand over her drooling mouth. Her throat felt like sandpaper, as it does when you hit something too hard. 

Freddy's floatie was back in the center of the pool. Emma, when finished with her attack and wiping her face, crawled back to the edge and watched in admiration as Freddy relaxed, a smirk resting on his face. 

He beckoned her to him, and patted his lap. Emma squinted her eyes at first, appalled by his unabashed gesture. How exactly is she supposed to get over there without getting wet? (Why the hell is she even considering going over there?)

"Just walk, doll." His gruff voice spoke. 

"Walk? Who am I? Jesus?" Emma spouted. 

Freddy laughed again, motioning to the edge of the pool.

Carefully, while still feeling stupid for even considering that she may walk on water, Emma did recognize the physical feeling of being light as a feather. The thought of the idea being brought on because she was extremely high didn't quite occur to her as it should've. And thus, she dared stick an unsure foot on top of the water, and oh so slowly put her weight onto it.

And within the minute this bitch was standing on water. Like literally. Maybe she WAS Jesus.

Emma stood still, thrilled and also terrified that if she moved the illusion would be broken. But she did step forward, one foot in front of the other and still she remained above the liquid. Soon she found herself standing over Freddy as he smirked up at her 'I told you so' written all over his face. 

She kneeled and grabbed his glove, gazing at it for a moment before bringing his thumb to her lips and taking a deep breath. It tasted earthy and delicious, and she didn't even break eye contact. 

Freddy's face was frozen in shock, nobody has ever had the balls to touch him before, considering the fact that he was literally always trying to kill them. But still, simply his appearance is enough to scare people away. This girl was somethin' else. And he knew it. 

She tilted her head to the night sky, exhaling through her mouth and nose. She could feel his (slightly perverted) gaze and, quite frankly, felt sexy and unpredictable. When she turned to him she smiled coyly, in love with the feeling of THC plunging through her veins. 

She did move onto Freddy's lap, giggling at his astonished face. Quickly he recovered, smoking once again from his strange getup. And together for a few minutes, Emma and Freddy took turns with the glove, with the occasional shotgun inhale. Freddy did, of course, sneak some naughty pinches upon her thighs when he could, and Emma would playfully swat his hand away. 

"Why don't we take this somewhere else?" Freddy suggested.

"Mmm, sure. I guess." Emma said, not really caring about anything at this point. The thought of the two having sex did cross her mind, but had decided that she would be ok whether it happened or not. Anyway, that's where this seemed to be going. 

Within a flash, before the thought even finished crossing her mind, she found herself standing on a cold cement pathway within a very old, large looking boiler room. 

"Well, I must admit, things are getting...steamy." Freddy chortled, grabbing her hips and pulling her closer. 

There was a hunger in his dead eyes, that she only now just noticed. And it wasn't lust. She noted that his claws had returned and were trailing up her bare thigh, painfully leaving scratches in their wake.

Something within her, her gut instinct if you will, came to life and screamed at her to run. And she would be a fool to ignore it. Freddy was now looming over her, and she immediately decided to pretend she was ignorant to his advances and wait until the perfect moment to escape. 

Freddy drew his knives to her lips, tracing them before baring his teeth and tilting his head, chuckling darkly. 

"Cat got your tongue?" Freddy barked. 

Emma decided she'd had enough, and ducked underneath his clawed hand and bolted down a dark pathway. But not without barely missing his swipe for her and catching one of the razors on her eyebrow. 

It stung, yes, and she did have to wipe the blood away so she could see, but that was the least of her problems. She had no idea where she was, no idea where she was going, and had no idea how to get out. She was a caged mouse, with the cat on her heels. 

Within the next three minutes, Emma had run down four different grated paths, but still couldn't seem to shake her clawed captor. Freddy's laugh would echo throughout the entire boiler room, which, the more she saw, seemed to go on forever and seemed about as big as a football field. She would be chased into a dark corner by his tall shadow, and just barely get out before he would pop around the edge of a large pipe.

As she went around a bend of pipes, she found herself standing at the edge of the cement floors, facing her backyard. Her porchlight was still on and illuminated the grass before her. Not thinking, she bolted for the backdoor, and swung it open, completely out of breath, and stood in shock at what she saw.

She was back in the boiler room, with Freddy standing right in front of her. His arms were crossed, and he gazed at her smugly. 

"Tsk tsk, poor little mouse can't find her way out?" He stepped forward menacingly. 

Emma drew back, horror written upon her bloodied face. "L-let me go-"

"Afraid that's not gonna happen, mousy." 

Emma turned around, prepared to make a run for it once again, but Freddy didn't hesitate and grabbed her throat with his burnt hand. He stared maliciously into her frightened eyes while stroking her cheek with a blade. He lowered his mouth to her ear, his hot breath making her shiver. 

"Well, it seems this little mouse has been caught. Time for kitty to have some fun."

Then, the back door slammed shut, Emma's screams for mercy were swept away into the breezy night, and this unfortunate story ends. 


End file.
